


Beat Of Our Bodies

by hostagesfic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cock Rings, Cunnilingus, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3304223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostagesfic/pseuds/hostagesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Louis is being mean because you and I got on so well with Jeff," Eleanor says conversationally. "But maybe if we all start having sex he'll get his head out of his arse and realize he's the one in bed with us, not your best friend."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beat Of Our Bodies

**Author's Note:**

> So remember the other day when someone on Twitter pretended to be a waitress who saw Harry, Louis, Eleanor, and Jeff out to lunch? We took that and ran with it regardless of its veracity, for the sake of ot3. The feels and the porn just sort of happened. Title adapted from Sledgehammer by Fifth Harmony, because it’s a fuckin’ bop and it actually kinda sorta goes with this.

"I'm still not sold on this Jeffrey," Louis grumps. He and Eleanor are sprawled in Harry's huge bed under the wide back window, pillows and duvet shoved around to make room for tangled legs. As soon as they’d got in Eleanor had shed her jeans and blouse, dug around in Harry’s closet and changed into a vest that she’s pretty sure is actually Louis’.

"I thought he was nice!" Eleanor punches at Louis' ribs gently.

Harry comes out of the bathroom drying his hair with a hand towel. He’s naked, lines of water still running down his legs from the shower and hasty dry job. He frowns. "Don’t be mean, Lou. Jeff is nice."

Louis rolls his eyes. "Whatever. You said he was funny, and he is so not funny."

“You’re funnier,” Harry concedes, dropping the towel and shaking out his hair, flopping onto the bed. 

Eleanor runs her fingers through the damp strands of his hair carefully where his head is lolling beside her thigh. "Fancy doing anything while you're down there, babe?"

 Harry nips at her skin, playful. “Dunno, got any ideas?”

Eleanor grins, shrugs. "Haven't had your mouth in a while, and you know this one, barely shuts up long enough to do the job."

Louis huffs. "Not what you said two nights ago."

Eleanor laughs indulgently. "Yeah? Remember what else I said two nights ago?"

Two nights ago is when they had been packing for this trip: when Louis had fucked her from behind after eating her out in the middle of their piles of clothes and toiletry bags, and Eleanor had said—

Louis glances at Harry. "Said you couldn't wait for him to fuck you again."

Harry’s breath catches in his throat. He’s been _trying_ his best not to have those thoughts when he’s away from from Lou and El, tried to save his energy and wanting for when he could actually do something about it, but now that they’re here... well. There’s nothing to stop him, really.

 

"Yeah I did," Eleanor laughs. "And what did you say?" Louis glares at her, and she raises an eyebrow back. "I'll tell him if you won't."

"I said," Louis says, brusquely, "I just said that I wanted that too, it's not a big deal."

Eleanor rubs her knuckles against Louis' bicep, and tightens her fingers in Harry's curls. "We missed you, basically."

"I missed you," Harry sighs, tilts his head so Eleanor's hand pulls his hair. "Loads."

"How many loads?" Louis asks, voice lilting. "You _did_ wank off to us, didn't you Harold?"

“Heeeeeey,” Harry laughs, but goes quiet, tentative. “Tried not to, too much. Wanted to wait for you.”

Eleanor scratches her nails against his scalp tenderly. "That's sweet, Haz."

Louis is silent for a moment, before he shrugs. "El can have you first, then, if it's going to be that quick."

“You wanna go right after?” Harry smirks, grabs for Louis’ ankle.

"Mmm," Louis says, "maybe, if it looks like your technique's improved any."

"Louis is being mean because you and I got on so well with Jeff," Eleanor says conversationally. "But maybe if we all start having sex he'll get his head out of his arse and realize he's the one in bed with us, not your best friend."

“It’s worth a shot,” Harry nods, crawls up to kiss Eleanor sweetly.

El gives Louis a pinch and winds both hands in Harry's wavy hair, tugging at the nape of his neck before she runs her fingers across his shoulders and down his back. "C'mon," she murmurs. "Don't need to be romanced right now, Harry."

Harry nods, doesn’t waste a minute in kissing down her neck and moving a hand down her tummy to edge under her panties.

Eleanor presses her head back against the mattress and looks over at Louis, who's watching unabashedly. She quirks a smile at him, and he smiles back, a little nervous at being caught. Reaching over, she catches his fingers in hers. She's wet, and Harry's so close to finding it out that she has to close her eyes, squeeze Louis' hand.

Harry’s face lights up when he gets his hand in Eleanor’s panties properly––he lifts his head, and his whole face splits with a grin.

Eleanor smacks at his shoulder with the hand not clutching Louis', and flushes.

"Has she soaked through them yet?" Louis asks. "She always gets so fucking wet for you. Even if it's just me talking about you."

Harry kisses Eleanor's hip, the smooth tan skin of her stomach. "You talk about me a lot?" He can't quite bring himself to look up.

"Talk about your cock," Louis says, honestly.

Eleanor slips a hand into Harry’s hair again; she likes that with Harry she has a little more to run her fingers through and tug. “Your cock, and your arms, and your stupid tattoos, and your mouth,” she says, letting go of Harry’s hair long enough to thumb at his lower lip.

Harry shudders, and kisses her thumb. He blinks up at her. "Every bit of you," she says. "God. Look at him, Louis."

“I’m looking,” Louis hums, palming at his cock over his sweats. He’s been trying to put into words the feeling he gets when he looks at Eleanor and Harry together, kissing or having sex or even just cuddling. It feels like he might burst, sometimes, with wanting and happiness and what he can’t describe as anything but love. It's nearly too much to bear, having them so close and having them want this as badly as he does.

Eleanor pulls Harry up by the shoulder and kisses him firmly, biting his lip as she pushes him back again. "Go look in my bag, love, brought you something from home."

Harry nods and knee-walks to the edge of the bed, stumbling a bit as he stands up, his half-hard cock slapping against his thigh as he walks over to the luggage rack that holds the suitcases they haven't yet unpacked. "It's in the little pink pouch," Eleanor calls to him, in between kisses to Louis' tense shoulders.

Harry picks up the pouch gingerly, holds it out. "Can I open it?"

Eleanor looks up from sucking a light mark into Louis' collarbone and nods.

She and Louis both know what he'll find when he pulls back the zipper: it's new, had been an impulse to bring with them rather than leave for the next time they're all home together—but, as Eleanor had pointed out, LA is a kind of home too, now. And with Harry having waited on them, it'll come in handy tonight.

Harry's throat goes dry as he pulls the pink rubber ring out of the pouch, and he turns it over it in his palm, looks up at Eleanor standing at the foot of the bed.

"You don't have to," she says, quietly. "We just thought it might help a bit, if you really want to have us both tonight."

"Worth a go," Harry nods, cheeks pinking. He doesn't blush easily. Eleanor and Louis both know he's never used a cock ring, but he's wondered about them, and El has helped him hold off on coming with her fingers wrapped tightly around the base of his dick before.

Eleanor beckons him over. "Let me put it on for you then, love. I have a bit of practice at it." She glances at Louis meaningfully. He's staring at Harry's cock, and she can't exactly blame him.

Harry stands in front of her with his hands clasped behind his back, and Eleanor inhales sharply at the picture it makes. Another night, perhaps.

"You're so hard already, babe," she says. "Look at you."

"Harry's always been easy." Louis has inched closer on the bed, hand still curled in the front of his sweats.

"You're fit," Harry shrugs, a lazy smile spread across his face. "And I want you. So."

"Has he always been this big?" Eleanor wonders, curling her fingers around the width of his cock and giving him an experimental little tug. Then—"Sorry, love, m not trying to ignore you. You're fit too, you know."

"Thanks," Harry says, breathlessly. He's leaning into her touch a little, hips twitching back and then forward again, helpless when she rubs her thumb up beneath the head of his cock. 

Louis clears his throat, pressing up against Eleanor’s back and leaning his chin on her shoulder. “Dunno, but always feels bigger in you.” 

“You do,” Eleanor glances up at Harry, resting her head against Louis’. “Can I have your mouth first, then? Help me relax a bit?”

Harry bites his lip, nodding. “Like this?” 

Eleanor smiles and shrugs. “You can pick, whatever’s easy.” 

Harry echoes her smile and slides to his knees on the shaggy carpet at the side of the bed, setting the cock ring on Eleanor’s thigh. The rubber is cool and light against her skin, barely a noticeable weight, pink like the hottest blush on her cheekbones. Louis kisses her shoulder. Spreading her thighs, Harry hooks one leg over his elbow and bends further to press his face against her lower stomach, chin nudging the wet crotch of her panties. Eleanor’s about to complain, tell him to let her legs go long enough to get them off, at least, but then he’s pulling the fabric off to one side, finger hooked in the elastic, and nosing at her clit. 

“Jesus, Hazza,” Louis huffs, brings an arm around Eleanor’s middle, petting at her ribs mindlessly. The novelty of sharing a bed with the both of them hasn’t worn off just yet, still leaves him breathless when Eleanor takes a fistful of Harry’s hair, when Harry looks up at her through his lashes.

Harry hums, tips his chin to press his tongue flat against Eleanor’s cunt, licking up to her clit slowly, holding the soaked panties to the side.

Eleanor shivers, mouth dropping open before she remembers to shut it, just muffling a helpless sound. She leans back heavily against Louis’ side, the hand not in Harry’s fringe clenching in the sheets of the mattress, trying to stay upright. 

Louis reaches down further, spreading her open on two fingertips so he can watch Harry lick in between them. Harry nudges the tip of his tongue inside her, leans in close to nose at her clit, and Eleanor pushes against his hand holding her underwear, trying to clench her thighs around him.

Harry takes his chances and raises his free hand, moves up to purse his lips over her clit and rub his fingertips over her cunt, slick and warm. All at once, he flicks his tongue and slides his middle finger inside her, halfway at first, curling up and dragging over her g-spot, and Eleanor whines, pulls his hair hard.

Louis wraps one arm around her ribs, carefully, guiding her back against his chest, but he can’t bring himself to move his other hand. His palm is spread over the soft skin of her lower stomach, his fingers wet from Harry’s mouth and her slick, and Harry’s cheeks are pressed against his knuckles. Louis can feel his jaw moving as Harry licks down around his own fingers, inside Eleanor, and back up to her clit. “Get her off,” he says, hoarsely. “Haz, go on.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, a little huff of breath against Eleanor. He backs away minutely to tug her underwear off, and she’ll probably give him shit for stretching them later, but for now he can’t bring himself to care before his mouth is on her again, closing over her clit and licking steadily up and down, over and over. He keeps a finger inside her, his knuckles against Louis’ fingers, and it’s almost too tight, too many hands involved, but they manage to make it work. It isn’t long before Eleanor hitches a leg around Harry, halfway on his shoulder, and tightens around Harry’s finger, pushes his head down to keep his tongue against her clit as she takes over. 

Louis grins, kisses Eleanor’s neck as she rocks her hips up, rubbing against Harry’s mouth and chin; it’s a move Louis knows well. He closes his mouth against her pulse-point and sucks gently, presses the heel of his hand down against her stomach and watches Harry’s eyes close as she grinds against his face.

“Come on,” he whispers, sliding his mouth up to kiss just beneath her ear, “look at him, love, he wants you to come on his face so bad.”

Harry whimpers, his hands gripping Eleanor’s thighs so hard that her golden skin goes white around his fingertips. He flattens his tongue, tipping his head up slightly to give her a better angle to rub off against him, and presses a second finger just at her cunt, where the first is tucked in deep. 

“Shit, fuck, ah—” Eleanor grinds down quick and a little off rhythm, moans loud and breathless when she comes, pulsing around Harry’s finger and against his mouth, tilting her hips away from Harry’s tongue when it’s too much on her sensitive clit. Even then, Harry licks around his and Louis’ fingers, hums contentedly at the taste.

El laughs shakily, pushing at Harry’s forehead. “Off, off, oh my god, Harry.”

“Haz,” Louis says, just an exhale, but Harry looks up, his eyes glassy, face shiny. Louis takes a shaky breath and pulls Harry up by the arm, licks into his mouth greedily.

“Christ,” Eleanor huffs, leans back against Louis’ chest. He’s not bracing himself, though, and they both topple over in a giggling pile, Harry left leaning over the edge of the bed with slick, swollen lips and a dopey smile on his face. 

Louis tucks his hot face against Eleanor’s throat and rubs his hand across her stomach, down to the tops of her thighs. It raises goosebumps under his fingertips, and she giggles. “Tickles, don’t.” Louis kisses her jaw, and curls his hand between her legs, where the insides of her thighs are slick. He knows better than to touch her clit, but that’s not what he wants anyway, tucking two fingertips just inside her. 

“Was that good?” Harry asks, crawling up on the bed next to them, cock flushed pink and curving up against his tummy. He’s always liked pleasing others, but he’s never craved approval in bed the way he does with Louis and Eleanor. He’s still figuring it out, himself, but it’s nice to test the waters.

“Yeah,” Eleanor sighs, smiles at Harry sweetly. She’s a little distracted, still, with Louis twisting his fingertips experimentally inside her and the aftershocks of her orgasm not quite done yet.

“You lose your gift already?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow at Harry. “Looks like you’re gonna need it.”

Eleanor laughs, turning her face against Louis’ and kissing his cheek. “Be nice, Lou, I dropped it—somewhere. Harry’ll find it, won’t you, babe?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, give me a sec, I’ll. Yeah.” He knee-walks backwards to the edge of the bed, nearly falling but catching himself at the last moment, carefully easing to the floor. “Got it! D’you, uh, d’you want it now, El?” 

Louis snickers, his lips catching strands of Eleanor’s hair, and she nudges him. “Think you mean does she want _you_ now,” Louis says, anyway. “And look at her, mate.” He pushes his fingers in and scissors them, holding her open. Her legs are still restlessly spread in the duvet, and where Harry’s kneeling at the foot of the bed he can see everything. 

“Lou,” Eleanor says, warningly, her thighs trembling. But she doesn’t move, even as her chest and neck flush pink to match her cheeks.

“God, yeah,” Harry sighs, turning the ring over and over in his hands, biting his lip. “El, can you... please?”

“C’mere, babe,” she sighs, and Louis takes it as his cue to withdraw his fingers and help her sit up. “Lou, can you grab the stuff from the nightstand? Ta, love.”

Harry hands her the ring and kneels beside her on the bed, hands folded neatly in his lap for a lack of something else to do with them, and Eleanor smooths her hands over his thighs. He’s jittery, muscles twitching under her touch with the effort to stay still. “It’ll probably pinch a bit,” she warns him, “‘cause you’re already so hard, babe. Lou’s going to slick you up, though, that’ll help.” She glances over her shoulder, to where Louis is slipping out of his sweatpants and digging through Harry’s table drawer. “Maybe next time he’ll get you nice and slick with his mouth, but right now––” she motions to Louis.

Louis comes up next to Eleanor, handing her the lube while he tears a condom open and then sets the packet on the mattress, holding his hand out so El can squirt the lube into his palm. “Alright?” he smiles, the gentle kind he saves for moments like this, giving Harry’s cock a few slow strokes.

“Yeah,” Harry says, breathless, and Louis kisses him, biting his lower lip, twisting his hand on the upstroke around Harry’s dick.

“Good,” Louis hums as he pulls away, sitting back on his heels to let Eleanor take over.

Harry tips his chin down to watch as Eleanor slips the ring on, brows in a focused little furrow. She tugs it as wide as she can, stretching it open to get it around the thick head of his cock, and then holds him as she rolls it down slowly. “It’s a good thing you’re so neat,” she says, rubbing his inner thigh, her thumb following the crease of his leg down to his balls, where all his hair is shaved or trimmed short. “It won’t tug anything. The first time I put one on Lou some hair got caught and you’d have thought I was torturing him, it was a nightmare.”

Louis frowns, but can’t keep it up in the face of a chance to make Harry squirm. “She only tortures you if you ask nicely.”

“Mmm,” Harry manages, staring down at Eleanor’s hands where she’s gently tugging at the ring, settling it into place at the base of his cock. Her knuckles keep brushing his taint, and he can’t stay still, thighs shifting helplessly, toes curled into the sheets under him. 

“Haz, is that okay?” Eleanor asks, raising a hand to hold his jaw. The look on Harry’s face tells her it’s probably _great_ , really, but she needs to be sure. “If it hurts, or feels weird, or if you just don’t want it anymore, you’ll tell us, yeah?”

Harry sighs, leans his cheek into Eleanor’s hand. The ring makes him feel both closer to coming and more like he couldn’t, if he tried. It’s an odd sensation, but one he could get used to, warming him up all over. “It’s good,” he nods belatedly.

“Be safe,” Eleanor insists, pecks a kiss on his cheek that makes his cheeks go pink.

“Looks better on you than it did on me,” Louis points out, plucking the condom out of the foil and pressing his knuckles to the base of Harry’s cock, nudging at the pink rubber. “Seriously, never doing that again without a trim, at least.”

“You would,” Harry laughs, shivers as Louis makes quick work of rolling the condom on, adding a little extra lube along the way. “Remember when you made me tie my hair back with a rubber band? Thought you’d learned from that.”

Eleanor rolls her eyes. “Repetition is key with this one,” she tells Harry. “But we’ll get him trained eventually, won’t we?”

Harry bites his lip, and looks at Louis. He loves watching Eleanor boss him around on a day-to-day basis: although he hasn’t had the chance to, he’s sure seeing it in bed would be just as pretty. He nods, slowly. 

“Well, today we’re bossing _Harry_ around,” Louis says. “And I was promised a proper show.” 

Eleanor smirks at Harry, a shared sort of fond resignation for their boy. “Yeah, Haz? You think we can give him something nice to think about when he’s off writing new songs with Liam?”

“D’you think they’d let us have a song about cock rings on the new album?” Harry wonders, rising on his knees, ready to follow El’s lead on what they’re doing. It earns him a laugh from Louis, and he grins, pleased. 

“Stockholm Syndrome part two,” Eleanor offers, and tugs at Harry’s arm. “Lay back, yeah? I wanna see you. Y’look so pretty like this.”

“Thank you,” Harry preens, bats his eyelashes as he settles back on the bed. Louis curls up right next to him, pinches one of Harry’s nipples just to see him squirm.

Eleanor straddles Harry’s hips, kneels above him with a hand around his dick, guiding it between her folds to rub the tip over her cunt. “Let’s put on a show for Lou, yeah?”

Nodding, Harry turns his head, nosing at Louis’ cheek and breathing shallowly. Eleanor’s skin is hot against his: her thighs against his legs and her hand on his chest and her cunt, dragging against his cock. 

“Give me a sec,” El stalls, and sits back a little. “God, you’re big.” She presses his cock flat against his stomach and lowers herself to rub back and forth on his shaft, just testing. She looks over at Louis and makes a face. She isn’t nervous, exactly, but it has been a while, and it’s been long enough since Harry got her off that there’s a ball of tension settled back in her stomach.  

Louis kisses Harry’s cheek and leans up on his elbows, rubbing her hip. “Hey,” he murmurs. “You okay?”

“It’s just been a while,” Eleanor shrugs, laughs a little nervously. “Just me being like, weird.”

“You’re alright,” Louis shakes his head, gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. “He’s not _that_ much bigger’n me, is he?” he jokes, self-deprecating in an effort to lighten the mood.

“Just a tad,” Eleanor compromises, rolls her hips down, still just rubbing herself against Harry’s dick.

“You’re in charge,” Harry reminds her, sharing a quick look with Louis. “I’ll stay put,” he adds, and arches his back to tuck his hands beneath him, right above his tailbone.

“See,” Louis says, “He’s gonna be so good for you, Els. Do you wanna just try a little bit?”

“Yeah,” Eleanor nods, “Jesus, I’m being such a baby. It’s not like we haven’t done this before.” She smiles at Harry apologetically and raises up on her knees. His cock bobs up like it’s following her, and they all laugh a little.

“Just gotta take it slow,” Louis hums, cuddling back up to Harry’s side and kissing his shoulder gratefully. “Harry’s patient.”

Eleanor takes Harry’s dick by the base again, and this time she lowers her hips as she rubs the tip over her cunt, slowly just like Louis instructed. She catches Harry’s eye as the head of his cock slips in, and next to him Louis nods, “There we go, love.”

Harry can’t keep his eyes open, no matter how he wants to watch Eleanor’s face. He’s been hard for so long with no attention paid to his cock that the sudden sensation is overwhelming. “I’m gonna come,” he says, voice cracking, and Louis laughs, warm against his shoulder. 

He opens his eyes to Eleanor smiling down at him. “No you’re not,” she says, and eases down past the head of his cock, slow but sure.

“Ah, _fuck_ ,” Harry groans, and it takes a conscious reminder not to get his hands out from beneath his back and grab for Eleanor or Louis or both, really, as Eleanor slides up, almost completely off his prick, and back down, taking a little more of him the second time.

“Yeah,” Eleanor sighs, rocking her hips up and back down, slow like Louis instructed.

“Look at you,” Louis breathes. “Both of you, fuck, Harry, you’re being so good, and El’s just––you’re so gorgeous, love, so fucking hot like this.”

Harry’s chest is heaving, his legs trembling under Eleanor, but he isn’t moving, not even the tiniest motion of his hips, and Louis said he was _good_. He’s never been gladder of anything in his life than he is of the fact Eleanor had him wear the ring tonight.

Eleanor can’t quite bottom out without it hurting a little, but she tries it anyway, braces her hands on Harry’s tense stomach and lowers herself as far as she can for a second, bouncing right back up. Harry moans, head thrown back in the pillows, and Louis whispers encouragement, “Let El know how much you like it, yeah? She loves hearing you, Haz, talked about it back home.”

Harry would flush if every ounce of blood hadn’t already rushed to his cock, but he nods eagerly, keeps his mouth open. Eleanor leans back, her stomach going taut as she moves her hands to his legs and the angle lets her sink lower again, and Harry whines, loudly.

“Yeah,” Eleanor moans, and the change in angle makes Harry’s cock drag inside her perfectly, has her bouncing in his lap a little faster to chase the feeling.

“Shit, El, babe, wait,” Louis speaks up, eyes gone wide, and Harry moans sadly when Eleanor almost stops moving entirely.

“What is it, Lou,” she grumbles, raising a hand to wipe a strand of hair sticking to her forehead off.

“Uh,” Louis gestures at her chest, and when Eleanor looks down, Louis’ vest has twisted to the side so one of her nipples pokes out from beneath it.

“ _Really_ , Lou?” she rolls her eyes, sighs fondly as she does away with the shirt altogether, goosebumps rising on her chest more from the attention than from the chill of the air conditioner.

Louis elbows Harry’s side, and Harry smiles at Eleanor innocently. “We just wanted to see, is all.”

“Yeah,” she says, “mmkay.” She settles back on her hands, her hips rolling forward as she takes more of Harry’s cock and rocks on him. “You good?”

Harry laughs, a little choked. “Really good, El, you’re—” he shakes his head, and looks to Louis pleadingly. He doesn’t know how to explain it.

Louis pets Harry’s stomach, his fingers gentle in Harry’s happy trail. “She feel good, H?”

“Uh huh,” Harry whines, turns his head towards Louis but still watches Eleanor out of the corner of his eye. “Missed you so much,” he mumbles, and it’s directed at the both of them. 

Louis presses his fingers between them, touching Harry’s cock and the ring and El’s thighs, and nods. “Here now.” He twists his wrist so he can rub at Eleanor’s clit with his thumb, following her pace and keeping steady so she can grind against him when she gets low on Harry’s cock. 

Harry squirms to free his arm and grab at Louis: the visual is too much, demands a reaction. His hand lands on Louis’ thigh, and it’s too easy to reach further and wrap his fingers around Louis’ cock, wank him off to the same rhythm. 

“Oh, fuck, Haz,” Louis grins, hips jumping off the bed to fuck into Harry’s hand. If his rhythm falters on Eleanor’s clit, there’s only a quiet whine from Eleanor to prove it. “Shit, babe.”  
  
“Don’t stop, Lou, c’mon,” Eleanor moans, bouncing faster on Harry’s dick, even though her thighs are starting to burn. “Close, just, keep going—”  
  
“Yeah,” Louis says. “Me too, I’m not gonna last, Haz, sorry, just—c’mon, El.” The words are all fractured in his brain, coming out a mess, but all Louis knows is that Harry’s hand is going to have him coming in a matter of seconds, and that he has to get Eleanor there, too.  
  
Harry tightens his hand on Louis' cock and digs his heels into the mattress, thrusting to meet Eleanor's rhythm as she moves on his dick.  
  
It's an impulse when he leans over to kiss Louis, but it means that he gets to feel Louis moan against his mouth when he rocks up into Harry's grip and comes over his fist. Above them, Eleanor gasps, and Harry bites his lip as she clenches down tightly on his cock. Harry opens his eyes, even while he’s still kissing Louis, and doesn’t know where to look; everything feels like too much, Eleanor half bent over him and still pulsing around his cock, and Louis plastered to his side, panting into his mouth, his come warm on the back of Harry’s hand and streaking up his tummy.

“Nice, Lou,” Eleanor laughs, batting his hand away from between her legs. She can’t quite stop moving on Harry’s cock, even though her thighs are shaking. Then again, so are Harry’s.

"Fuck off," Louis groans, wiping his hand, damp from between her legs, on Harry's stomach and pressing his other arm over his eyes. "You two were being all— hot, and shit."

"You too," Harry says, pink-faced and earnest. "You're always hot when you come, Lou, your face does that little scrunchy thing and you—"

Louis raises his arm just enough to glare at Harry.

Eleanor pats Harry’s tummy, fingertips on the wings of his butterfly tattoo. “I think it's your turn, lovely. Let’s get that ring off you, why don’t we?”

"Please," Harry nods. It's starting to hurt a little, and he likes that more than he thought he would, but tonight probably isn't the time to explore that. 

Eleanor lifts her hips carefully, holding Harry’s cock at the base as she pulls off, and scoots down his thighs. She peels the condom off first, tossing it onto Louis' belly; in his boneless, post-orgasmic haze Louis can only manage a displeased grunt and a tiny pout.

“Was it okay, Haz?” Eleanor asks, rolling the cock ring off with gentle fingers. Harry’s cock is flushed a deeper pink than usual, even when he’s held off on coming before, and Eleanor rubs two fingertips up and down the length curiously.

“Yeah,” Harry manages to choke out, nerves on end. He’s positive the moment Eleanor touches him properly he’ll come; might not even take that long.

Eleanor takes her hand away, though, rubs her palms over his thighs instead, his trembling belly. "I'm so glad you liked it, you looked so good in it, babe." She's grinding down on his leg almost thoughtlessly, and Harry can feel her wet against his skin. He's wet too: his cock twitching painfully, blurting out precome, and the sensation is surprising. Eleanor glances down at his dick and smiles a bit. "You want to come now, love?"

“Please,” Harry’s nodding before Eleanor can even get the question out, petting Eleanor’s thigh with his clean hand, shaky fingers trying to get her closer. “ _Yes_ , fuck.”

“Oi,” Eleanor says, a little sharply, pinches Harry’s hip, “just hold on a tiny second longer, alright? Think I can get another condom on you so you can fuck me again? This time we can go at your pace.”

Harry blinks, trying to imagine Eleanor touching his cock and _not_ coming immediately. Still, he finds himself nodding again. 

"Right," Eleanor says. "Stay there while I get it." She clambers off his thighs and leans across Louis to get a second condom off the bedside table, tearing it open and tossing the wrapper to the floor. She kneels by Harry's side and takes his cock in one hand, her first finger and thumb wrapped tight around the base as she rolls the condom down. Harry whines, softly, and Louis, seemingly exerting all that's left of his energy, leans up on one elbow to kiss his forehead. "You can do it, Haz."

“It’s— fuck,” Harry takes a gulp of air, like he’s forgotten how to breathe without thinking about it, and Louis nods knowingly.

"Just have to last until I get you inside," Eleanor says gently, laying down beside Harry, smoothing a wisp of hair out of his sweaty face. "You've been so good today, Harry."

Harry’s tummy feels warmer, even, at the praise, and he rolls on top of Eleanor, holding himself up with his sticky hand braced on the bed. He can’t help rutting against her thigh once he’s above her, like he’s gotten this far and suddenly forgotten what’s next, and Eleanor offers him a warm smile. “Here, lemme,” she says, spreading her legs wide around his hips and reaching between them to guide Harry’s cock in. As soon as she feels the head catch she wraps her legs up around him, tilting her hips. She's wet enough that with the right angle and the force of Harry barely holding himself up anymore, he slides in deep on the first try, making them both gasp.

“Like that,” Eleanor shivers, wraps her arms around Harry’s shoulders and digs her heels into his arse. Harry snaps into overdrive, his brain catching up to his body and the way Eleanor is urging him on; his thrusts are choppy and uneven and _deep_ , and his still-damp hair falls into his face, and he’s breathtaking when he finally gets what he wants after having to wait.

"Fuck," Louis says, rolling closer to lean his head against Eleanor's shoulder and watch. "Haz."

Eleanor is laughing breathlessly, quiet against Harry's neck and shoulder, and they're making the bed squeak.

Harry’s only a minute longer, hips knocking into Eleanor’s and head thrown back to expose his neck as he finally, finally comes with a long, deep moan, toes curled and abs tense, rocking through it without restraint.

“Jesus, that was nice,” Louis huffs, blows Harry a tired kiss. "Cheers."

“Very pretty,” Eleanor agrees, muffled beneath the boneless pile of Harry half-collapsed on top of her. “You alive, lovey? Was it good?”

Harry groans, hides his face in Eleanor’s neck. “‘mazing.”

“Glad to hear that,” Eleanor preens, and Harry moves down enough to kiss the curve of her breasts, lick one of her nipples playfully. “Enough of that, go on,” she giggles, batting at his shoulders until Harry rolls off to the side.

“Wow,” Louis says from Eleanor’s opposite side, and when Eleanor and Harry glance over, Louis is making a revolted face at his stomach. “I’m disgusting, fuck.”

“There’s wipey things in the drawer,” Harry mumbles, waves a hand towards the nightstand.

“Get in,” Louis laughs, rolls over to grab the packet of wet wipes. “Brilliant idea, Harry,” he says, plucks a wipe out and hands the packet to Eleanor.

“I suppose,” Eleanor frowns, hands off the wipes to Harry, who’s still mostly a boneless mess. “I’d like a warm flannel better, if I’m honest. Haz?”

Harry peers at her from beneath his hair and takes a deep sigh. “Yeah, just. Gimme a sec.”

“Ought to take your toy with you and give it a wash,” Eleanor reminds him, pats around in the sheets for the cock ring. “Warm water and a bit of soap is good. Wouldn’t wanna put it away all dirty, would we?”

Harry shivers, and pushes his face against her arm, shakes his head no against her skin. “We’re gonna use it again, right?”

Louis snorts. “Give it a rest for five seconds, Harold, we don’t all have your refractory period.”

“Hey,” Harry says, pulling away from Eleanor to look up and pout. “I wasn’t—I was just saying. Like, in the future.”

Eleanor looks between the two of them, Harry and his messy hair and flushed cheeks and Louis with the sort of unguarded, sweet smile he used to save for only her—and now Harry, too. “I’m sure we can find the time for it,” she smiles.

Harry nods, pacified, and kisses her shoulder, rolls away off the bed and heads for the bathroom. Louis bites his lip, watching Harry’s small bum and long, long legs disappear from view, and Eleanor nudges his side. “Go help him, I’m not sure he was listening about how to clean the ring, babe.”

“He’s a walking disaster,” Louis says, any gravity lost in the hopelessly fond look on his face, and kisses Eleanor’s cheek before getting to his feet to follow after Harry.

Eleanor grins after him, spreading her legs out in the free space with the bed to herself, rubbing one hand across her tummy. It’s always good sex, with the two of them, but this might be better; watching them trail around after each other afterwards, sidetracked too easily with bare skin and still-flushed cheeks. She can see a corner of the bathroom mirror through the open door, and Harry’s got Louis’ face cupped in both hands, kissing him as the water runs and runs in the sink.

“Hey,” Eleanor calls. “Don’t get distracted.”

“Don’t _spy_ on us,” Louis squawks, over Harry’s helpless giggles. 

And really, Eleanor couldn’t love them any more if she tried.


End file.
